


To Fall Again

by prettygirllostt



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sherlock comes back after 3 years, There's no room for him anymore, buffy angst prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 03:42:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettygirllostt/pseuds/prettygirllostt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In response to a prompt "Sherlock comes home after 3 years to find life has moved on without him. Based on the start of 6 season Buffy where she returns from the dead."</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Fall Again

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick piece I posted on Tumblr thanks to an angst prompt.

John has a wife. Her name is Mary. She’s carrying his baby. He saw them in the middle of Tesco. John was happy. He didn’t look twice at the man in the long coat. The man stared at him. He walked away. Three years is a long time to be away.

Greg Lestrade had since left. He no longer lives in London. Whispers told him that the old inspector had grown fat and moved away. He didn’t want the fast paced life anymore. There was no one to give the man directions anymore. Scotland Yard was empty of the usual faces. Three years and a new Inspector had taken his place. 

Molly married. Married and left Bart’s. A man named Andrew. He watched her kiss him in the awning as it rained. She didn’t look. Why should she? She saved his life and let him go. Wasn’t that enough? She didn’t look because three years was far too long for someone to suddenly return. 

Mrs. Hudson had died. Died two years before. She’d died with John and Mary by her side. They’d held her hands. She’d asked for Sherlock but of course, he was dead. Gone. Buried. Mycroft paid to have her funeral. It was a lovely service. He was there. In the back. Where no one would see him. Two years and Baker Street is no longer home.

“I told you not to wait.” 

Mycroft is all that is left. His cold house with its big rooms. His frown. His disapproval. The only love he could ever give. Three years and there was no place to go. Coming back from the dead wasn’t easy. Three years of playing dead and no one cared anymore. 

It’s funny for him to stand on that ledge again. He tipped over the edge on a day that seemed so long ago. He stood in the very same spot. They couldn’t clean all the blood off. Maybe they wouldn’t bother to clean his blood off the street either. No, with this fall it would be real. Could be. He opens his arms, ready for his flight. A more permanent destination. 

“Are you going again?”  
John is married. Married to a woman named Mary. He stands behind Sherlock. How fitting. He was always a step behind. He stands with his hands in his pockets. He looks older. 

“I didn’t really the first time.”

Immeasurable sadness. 

“Yeah, thought as much.”

They look at one another. Three years had changed them. Both older. Both wiser. Maybe there would be nothing there anymore. John cried. Slowly then suddenly. Maybe there’s nothing to say. Sherlock turns back to the ledge.

“We’re naming him Sherlock.”

Stop. He closes his eyes. 

“Want to meet him?”

Three years is a long time to be gone. 

“He’ll want to know his godfather.”

Three years. Maybe there’s nothing left to say. 

“Mary will want to know…”

John places his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. 

“Mary will want to know the person who keeps me from her.”

Stop. Breathe. Don’t look down. 

“The hardest thing to do in this world is to live in it.”

One step. That’s all.

“Sherlock,” when did John break? “Sherlock, I love you.”

Too easy. So easy. Three years. It could be so easy.

“Don’t go again. I love you.” 

The man he was is gone. He turns. 

“ And I love you, John Watson.”

He’s gone.


End file.
